Ch: 26 What Happens in the Stable

While Becky and Khan guided Luna on a brief tour, the others started dinner. Shai and Tallum set Gary adrift in the bath again. 

 

Shai had done away with the small pool, Gary liked being close to them all. ‘The poor boy craves intimacy and contact the way a fish needs water to swim.’ She thought, going back to her favorite game of sending him drifting in lazy circles around the bath. 

His bandages dissolved in the chaotic waters, revealing the partially healed cuts and bruises, and the wreck of his abdomen. Even Tawny’s skill with spell and needle could not undo that terrible wound.

 

She pulled him close and laid her head on his chest to listen to his heart for a while.

In a short time a rich scent began to come from the open kitchen, filling the common room. Smoked pork belly seared in a hot pan made everyone sit up and take notice, Luna was no exception. 

#

 

Even the near lifeless coffin filler in the pool showed signs of movement before long. It was eerie, watching someone who should certainly be a corpse, move slowly to the edge of the water.

 

As Luna watched, the mysterious and (she was now forced to admit) beautiful smith was having a soft conversation with her pet cadaver.

 

“Bacon?” The poor thing whispered.

 

“Aye, Becky did say ye should choose, which shall it be?” 

 

He mumbled something unintelligible and slipped into quiescence again, resuming a corpse like drift.

 

“New England he did say, Tallum, mind me boy whilst we cook!” In a twinkle the smith was out of the pool, in a robe and helping the others with the meal. 

 

She traded places seamlessly with the giant smith, once more displaying uncanny precision and cooperation. The huge smith seemed as invested in the broken man as the woman was.

 

Luna sat in the reading nook, watching by the fireside. Khan was moving among them, just as he did when he was her patrol leader. 

 

He smiled and chatted, but he was watching, evaluating, looking for concealed injury or illness. 

He scanned gear for wear or damage, watched the cooks as they worked and swept past the pool every so often, watching the invalid float with interest.

 

She had never known Khan to wield authority as most officers did, he led his patrols just this way. He was more a parent or counselor to many of his troops, something that Luna had seen early and come to love him for.

 

Orphans rarely attained officer’s ranks in War’s legion. A commoner who chose War, could rise as high as their talents and abilities will allow them. Those who came to War by indenture had fewer opportunities.

 

Even if officers like Khan were as common as fallen leaves, it would not be enough. War was doomed to lose his battle, Luna had seen enough action to know that. In perhaps a few centuries, nothing would be left but ruins and monsters.

She suspected that was part of the erosion of discipline in Port Fallon over the last two years. That and baron Fallon’s heir being eaten by a gapemaw frog, leaving that fool Brennan in charge. That was a stupid way for a good man to end.

 

‘If these greenies are worth his time they are worth mine.’ She decided silently. Luna rose and headed to the kitchen, washing her hands in the luxurious, hot running water. 

 

“How can I help?” She asked the sava-... She asked Shai.

 

“Aid me wi these potatoes, we must peel and cut them small.” Shai said with a smile so warm Luna could only smile in return.

 

It was by far the strangest kitchen she had ever seen. They worked so seamlessly together, Luna felt like a fumbling rube. Things were moving so quickly, she attempted to withdraw and wash dishes…

 

There were none. Every spoon, bowl and cutting board was used, and then tossed into the sink. There should have been a mound of washing up to do. 

 

Luna watched as Shai dumped a large metal bowl filled with chopped potatoes into a kettle filled with sizzling bacon, onions and good white flour. She carelessly dropped the soiled bowl in the sink and turned away.

 

Luna moved up to wash it and feel useful, there was no bowl. In confusion, she felt around in the sink, empty as a beggar’s purse. On the shelf nearby, two more bowls like the one she was looking for stood, clean and empty.

 

 Khan’s warm, strong arms enfolded her from behind. His breath in her ear barely carried his words. 

“You are not going mad. Let these children work their magic tonight. Just watch with me.” He pulled her to a comfy seat by the fire to watch the doings.

 

It took a while for her to tumble the secret. “It's the bells, the girl, Shai has a gift that puts them in step together.” It struck her like an arrow as she spoke. “She used it on the road to quicken our travel! That is useful. Is she the one indentured?”

 

“No, it's the strange one in the bath. Step careful with him when he wakes, treat him as you would an unfamiliar dog. He probably won't bite without warning.”

 

They settled into a comfortable silence while watching the young people work together. Shai’s hips never stopped shimmying in time to the music of their own making. 

 

Every knife hitting a board kept the beat, spoons stirred in subtle harmony with the footsteps and quiet humming that drifted from the troupe. What few words they exchanged were chanted in cadence as they performed a subtle and understated dance together.

 

Before long, bowls of thick white broth and platters of toasted bread began hitting the tables. Luna inhaled deeply, it smelled faintly of fish and earth, with bacon and milk drawing it all together into a mild and warming stew.

 

“Fish of some kind?” She asked. 

 

“Catfish and crawdaddie, Gary calls it ‘Chowder’, I think that is a silly name.” Becky said cheerfully as she joined their table.

 

“You eat crawdaddie? Those horrid pinching water bugs?” She asked, looking slightly ill.

 

“It grossed me out at first, but Gary swears by them. Besides, this one tried to eat us, ‘sonly fair.” She said around a mouthful.

 

With a shrug she tried the soup. “Who would have thought?” She asked in wonder. “Those shits are delicious!”

After a fine meal they adjourned to the much rumored baths. Khan had not exaggerated the simple luxury of it. It was odd bathing with what amounted to a floating wight though. 

 

Luna had seen a lot of gut wounds, that one was a death sentence sooner or later, from the looks of him, it would be sooner.

 

“What got him?” She asked Khan softly.

 

“Crawdaddy gone monster, bigger than Annie. Nearly snipped him in half through armor and shield.” He whispered. “Tawny sewed him back together in the field less than a week ago.”

 

“Gods above and below, he lasted a week like that? Better to have slit his throat then and there.” She looked him in the eye and spoke slowly. “If I ever wind up in that condition, ease me out of this world and live your life, I would not fester from the inside.”

 

“If you have Tawny nearby, and this bath to recover in, that would be a waste.” He said, looking more alive and happy than she had seen in a long time. “Come, he’s moving, let's introduce you before he goes again.”

 

Luna felt terrible, allowing herself to be introduced to this doomed creature. As though he were likely to live till next sunset.

 

“Nice to meet you Luna,” He gasped, clearly unable to draw a full breath. “I should be up and around in a day or two. We can talk then.” He said, his eyes fluttering. 

 

The naked priestess surged by with a wad of fae dust in her hand, shoving it in his mouth as he slipped away. “That’s a waste, he won’t be feeling anything.” The tattooed woman muttered, drawing a sharp look from Tawny.

 

“You are new to our troupe, so I will ignore that, mistress Luna. You will find that we care for our own.” She said, sounding cold for a woman who looked so warm. “Do not let the others hear such, we are… prickly at the moment.”

 

“My apologies, honored priestess. This one is shamed before you.” She said, falling back on her tribal ways in a rare breach of control.

 

“There is no shame, we need only get to know each other better.” Tawny was a potent force, even without the weight of her titles. Her smile swept Luna up and set her head spinning.

 

“I shall see to Annie, please excuse my rudeness.” She said, escaping before embarrassing herself further.

Out in the stable, or rather, Annie’s quarters, Luna was pacing and speaking to her closest friend. 

 

“This house is mad, Khan seems willing to leap into bedlam and begin howling at the moon with them.” Luna said. “I am the last one to say someone is moon touched but this is beyond too much… Don’t look at me like that.”

 

“You do know she is my familiar, don’t you?” Khan asked from the door, as he stepped in and slid it closed behind. 

 

“Yes, but she is my friend, are you? Bringing me to this madhouse with no warning at all. That was for your amusement was it not?”

 

“How could I warn you? There is more, wait till that boy is moving again, I tell you it is a thing to be seen.” Khan said. “Once we are properly married and free to do as we wish, we will be unstoppable!”

 

“He is that mighty?” Luna asked in hushed wonder.

 

Khan laughed long and hard. “Gods no, I hear he fights like a newborn kitten, struggling to find a teat and he has no offensive gifts or talent for magecraft. Yet you will see wonders.” He laughed again. “I’ve only seen a hint, but Old Mikkel and Otho of Joy swear by him.”

 

Luna sighed. “Those two old fools and their dream of the old days, no one even remembers but them. Everytime I see those two, they convince me anew to join their foolishness.”

She slid towards him, feet silent on the fragrant wood shavings piled in the stalls. “Let the old men worry about tomorrow.” Her voice was low in the near darkness. “I have other concerns tonight.”

 

Khan backed nervously, trapping himself in a vacant stall. “Luna.. we never spoke of… we never…” His eyes darted all around searching for an escape.

 

Her voice was strangely husky and raw as she spoke. “I feared this time would never come, Imran Khan.” 

 

Luna followed him in and slid the stall door closed. “You are not my patrol leader, anymore.”

#

Three sharp raps on his chamber door and like a witch’s curse, Brennan’s erection shriveled. Uncle Eglund would wait until he was with his favorite whore. 

 

“Go,” He barked at her, hurling a bronze mark in the girl’s direction. “Tell your mistress to beat you for delaying, five lashes I think.” He smirked. “I want to see those marks when next I send for you.” 

 

Mistress Thune would freshen those lashes every day or two until he summoned her, that was a delightful little game they played. 

 

Maybe Thune had a whore that looked like that red haired smith bitch, or a skinny dark girl… or one could be taken off the streets of the dock ward with ease.

 

Those thoughts entertained him while he dragged his clothes on and stomped off to meet his lord and uncle, barron Eglund Fallon.

 

He was ushered into his uncle’s study immediately, finding the barron at his desk, a tall stack of documents and a quill were the only things on the wide expanse of oak.

 

“Lady Trelawny was notably absent at dinner Brennan. I have also not received any useful reports on that orphan I sent you to look at. I even hear that a band of green adventurers slew the creature in the marsh.”

 

“Uncle, patrol leader Nazar should have filed…” Eglund raised a hand, silencing him.

 

“I have Nazar’s report. He states that he was unable to see the orphan in question, learning only that he is gravely wounded and may not live.” The barron sighed long and slow. “Did you see this child, nephew?”

 

“I did, he is not likely to survive. Even so, he is not worth the effort, he had nothing to recommend him.” 

 

“And the lady Trelawny?” He asked. Making his nephew shrink back in his seat.

 

“She is traveling under a veil of penitence, working as a common healer, she will not break the seal of her veil.”

 

“In that case you are to take a patrol of light horse, ride out, find mistress Trelawny's party and apologize abjectly and humbly for causing offense.” The old man smiled sadly. “Gift her some trifle, that horse I bought this spring, Winslow. That will do nicely.”

#

 

Luna and Khan crept guiltily back inside in the small hours, slipping around through the bath to Khan’s room. 

Just as the door slid closed, Luna stopped. “Wait, where is your mostly dead friend?”

 

The duo padded back down the hall to the bath, it was empty. They looked in the kitchen and common room as well, also empty. 

 

Khan was pacing in the reading nook, as they all called it. “I would rather not wake the others, they must have taken him to a bed. We should bathe while it's empty.” He said with a grin. “I have wood shavings in places…”

 

They had been ‘bathing’ for a good while when they heard a door slide closed nearby. The godsdamned walking corpse ambled up to the pool, as they separated to a discrete distance. 

 

He was hunched almost double and clutching at the angry looking remains of his abdomen like his guts could spill out at any moment.

 

“Don’t mind me,” He whispered in that lyric accent. “I need to rest, but you can stay.” He pulled a huge wad of fae dust from somewhere and shoved it in his mouth. “I’m gonna be unconscious for a while.” 

 

Just like that, he was as good as dead again. Though the damage to his lower body seemed much healed, the wound in his abdomen remained horrifying. Luna could not resist moving closer and taking a sniff.

 

“What are you doing Luna?” Khan called from nearby.

 

“I don’t want to get attached if he’s going rotten. Don’t look at me like that, you remember Dolan.” She said, while returning to his side. 

 

“I also remember Mai Ling. She begged you to cut her throat, begged for hours thinking she had vigil worms in her brain.” He grinned at her as she fidgeted. “I had to tie her to her horse. What was it that the healer found back in town? A tiny moth trapped in her ear.”

 

“That moth could have gotten into my delicate underthings, that would have been a disaster. You haven't seen them yet.” Luna whispered while nibbling at his throat.

 

A shimmering cascade of harp notes tinkled on the stairs. Becky was announcing herself and allowing them time to become less thoroughly entangled. The kid had class.

She came skipping down the steps and made a perfunctory check of the not exactly dead man. 

 

While she worked, Annie came clopping around the corner into the bathing area. The enormous horse leaned over Becky to sniff demurely at the floating man and chuffed softly in satisfaction. “See? He will be fine, I’ll send him to see you when he’s feeling better.” Becky said.

 

“Are you also touched by the god of Beasts, mistress Becky?” Luna asked.

 

“No, I speak horse. Only familiars are smart enough to have a chat with.” She patted and scratched the horse’s cheek. “Annie is a great conversationalist.” 

 

She nuzzled her face in Annie's neck in embarrassment. “No sweety, don’t tell me about that… no humans don’t talk about that with other people.” She said cryptically. “I understand, people do that in stables all the time, we still shouldn't talk about it.” 

 

While walking Annie back to the stables she chatted away. “I’m sure he didn’t hurt Luna, she seems fine. No, humans are just loud that way…”

 

“Khan, please, cut my throat.” Luna whispered, lost in new and exciting depths of mortification.

 

“We will trade, we slit each other's, but first, the horse dies.” Khan agreed.

 

A thin and weak voice rose behind them, still faintly sing-song. “Annie is my guest, you are her entourage. Perhaps I should have servant’s quarters added on to the stable…” He seemed to meditate on that for a moment. “no, she needs her rest.”

 

The boy’s grin would have been goofy and charming in a living face. Sadly, he drifted off again, leaving that grin to become a waxen death mask, it was ghastly.

#

 

Finding a troop of horse and rousting them from their barracks would have been easy and satisfying, but misery loves company and Brennan was feeling gregarious. For this task he needed the right troop, finding them would take most of the night.

 

Among the whorehouses and taverns of the dock ward he found them. Malus and Bran were drunk and naked, buried under a small pile of whores. They were enthusiastic, but not selective when they felt the itch. He kicked the closest exposed body part and roused the whole heap. 

 

He ignored the skinny whore’s complaints over being kicked in the tit. “Up you two, we ride at first bell. Find the rest.” As he left, the sounds of bare hands swatting naked sleeping asses amused him, as his men struggled to extricate themselves. 

 

He slammed the door of the shabby inn room and thundered down the stairs, shaking the whole structure, just to make sure the whole place was having a shit morning too. Maybe the afternoon would turn out better. He might just get a chance at that smith and skinny waif yet.

 

At first glance his troopers were unremarkable, six warriors in the armor of mainline War cultists. They straddled a motley assortment of ponies and plow beasts, local patrols had to make do with whatever crowbait was available. 

 

At least he had a decent mount, a splendid dark mare with white socks and a biddable attitude. The miserable beast had no spirit though, it followed his commands with or without spurs or crop. He used them anyway, naturally. 

 

He detailed his groom with leading Winslow. “Damage that beast and I will pull your balls out through your asshole, Levin.” Corporal Bran growled.

 

They cantered out just after first bell, riding in silence until they left inhabited territory. At dawn they heeled up on a low hill looking over the shore road.

 

“We are looking for a band of greenie Adventurers, they have a priestess of Healer with them, she is not to be touched.” He barked. “You will follow my instructions carefully.” 

 

Fallon dearly hoped that ‘or else’ would be understood. The quality of local goons and minions was lamentable. He would have to address that when he became barron… or better yet duke.

 

“They are on foot with a dog cart, we should catch them before midday. Malus, choose a scout. Do not allow yourselves to be seen until we are ready.” 

 

Fallon hated managing commoners. They never seemed to understand instructions without a beating or two to seat the lesson.

#

 

Gary regretted missing Port Fallon, the jumbled impressions he got were chaotic and dirty. It seemed so familiar, like he could slip into those filthy streets and vanish again. Shai would never come along, she was a collar, binding him to Wheatford and wherever she wandered next. But what fine and comfortable collar it was.

 

Sulking in the early hours of the day was becoming a habit since he caught the Pimp Hand. Even now it felt like his guts were being pulled through a knothole, it made him moody and cross.

 

Khan and his new lady friend were soaking nearby, trying to pretend they were not all over each other. That was annoying today too. He had tried working in the shop, just a little when no one was looking. He ran out of gas so fast it was embarrassing, even worse he had to interrupt those two. 

 

It had to be done, if Shai had found out he was moving around unsupervised… Now it was finished though, his finest work to date. Just in time too, he felt the Bathers beginning to stir, smelling the coffee he had started before splashing down.

 

Shai looked better than she had in days, her eyes were less red and puffy and she had almost combed her hair without Becky’s assistance. 

 

Gary lifted one hand from the water and shot the gang a thumbs up. “Thanks gang, I should be fine now.” He croaked, receiving a chorus of boos and hisses in return. 

 

“You'll see… they said I was mad at the university…” He cackled madly, before slipping away again.

“He is not inspiring confidence, Khan.” Luna whispered.

 

Breakfast was a lovely affair. Annie slipped her head in a window that Luna was certain had not been there a moment before and joined them at the table. 

 

Oats and apples were served to all, some were cooked, some were not. Except Otho, he had a slice of crawfish. When the meal was done, Shai helped Gary out of the pool and began dressing him carefully. 

“Ye would wear yer arming coat? Ye hae nae breastplate, twas cut in half boy.” Shai scolded, when he handed her the padded shirt he wore under his armor. 

 

She tucked him into it as though his bones were made of spun sugar and children's dreams, until Becky came over and complained. “Just stuff him into a roll of blankets.”

 

He stood there, swaying slowly and trying to draw enough breath to explain for a moment, before giving up and just looking pitiful. “Aye, ye shall be warm at least.” Shai said, glaring at Becky as she backed off

 

It took a little work to get his swollen midsection buttoned in, but his posture eased when it was snug.

When she thought he was ready to go in the cart, he handed her a strange object, with that same breathless pleading look.

 

“Ye do be mad after all. Whae did ye save that useless thing and what have ye done?” Shaking her head, she began buckling the terrible thing onto her madman.

 

When she was done, the trembling wreck stepped outside, leaning on a cane of dull gray wood with a bronze handle.

 

This was Luna’s first time seeing him truly mobile, and it was horrifying. His face was ashen and yellow at the same time, like cheap candle wax. 

 

He trembled visibly and struggled to remain upright when not in motion. When he walked, it was faltering and slow, seeming to fall and catch himself on his cane with each toddering step.

 

Most bizarre was his garb. Common pants and boots were the epitome of ordinary, his warm winter cap seemed well made and had a cheery yellow pom pom at the crown. In between lay madness.

 

A breastplate of bullhide with a horrible rent in the left side had been carefully stitched back together with sinew or gut. Even stranger, plaques of wood and metal were mounted to the torso, standing off on strange bolts and leather spacers. making it rigid and bulky.

 

“Shai,” He gasped. “can you buckle it tighter? Really tight?” The poor woman stepped up and cinched his buckles so tight, the leather creaked like an old barn door. 

 

“Ohh yeah, that's better!” He said, still hoarse and quiet but audible. He stood straighter, took a deeper, shallow gasping breath and smiled.

 

“Gary, what is that monstrosity?” Ivy asked.

 

“This monstrosity is going to keep my guts from falling onto my shoes and help me breathe. The rest is just for the kicks.” He wheezed

 

With a flourish he produced a pair of wooden mallets the size and shape of dandelion tufts. He ran the sticks over his chest, hitting the plaques crisply…

 

…and music tumbled out, percussive and sweet. Each plaque was a different metal or wood and a unique size and shape. Almost involuntarily, Luna began to tap her toes and sway to the beat. It was madness, most sublime and hysterical. 

 

It was also loud, really loud, louder than anything that size could possibly be. The sound came from everywhere it seemed, wrapping her up in a strange embrace that was comforting and warm, yet demanded action. 

 

Shai the smith was already dancing, swapping her feet side to side in leaping arcs. With arms clasped above her head, she shimmied in a wild spin before kicking and leaping away again like some untamed forest creature.

 

Luna only realized she was dancing down the road, when Khan took her hands and spun her into the arms of the red haired giant.

 

When the song ended, Luna sank to a boulder and gasped for breath. “We should pack up and get underway.” She said, while struggling to get her breathing back under control.

 

“Not till after lunch.” Khan said firmly, wheezing and doubled over.

 

“Can’t spend half a day with our thumbs up, if that boy says he can travel, we should march.” She grunted as she stood up straight. “If he can’t keep up, throw him in the cart.”

 

“Relax Luna, we will be in Port Ellis before you know it.” He said with that grin she knew so well. She looked around, leery of whatever prank he might have led her into.

 

The inland sea stretched off to the mountains, barely visible in the haze. The Shore Road wound along, hugging the shore in places, but usually separated by a strip of open grassland. Across the wide gravel road was light forest and the occasional stone foundation, indicating past habitation.

 

Just up the way a wide stone bridge carried the road across a river. “Is that Wray’s bridge?” Luna asked.

 

“Yes!” Khan said, grinning even more widely.

 

“Wray’s bridge is a day and half from Port Fallon.” She said. “By fast horse”

 

“Yes!” He said. 

 

“Smiling that hard must be painful.” She said, smiling in return.

 

“Yes!” He said. Beginning to look uncomfortable.

 

“How committed to this bit are you Khan?” She asked so sweetly it hurt a little.

 

“Very!” He said, his lips and nose beginning to go pale.

 

“So if I keep dancing around the question…?” She almost whispered, fascinated by this new game.

 

“Please… I can’t feel my cheeks and my teeth are dry.” He said, somehow sounding enthusiastic and pained.

 

“Oh very well.” She said, assuming a shocked and mystified expression and swooning onto a nearby boulder. “How can this be?” She gaped in wide wonder and gasped; “Perhaps that girl used her gift to dance us all the way here because they are very strangely magical?” 

 

She whomped him across the tummy with a forearm. “You have been saying they are stupid magical all this time. Do you think I'm daft?”

 

“I like her!” Gary said with obvious joy. “Khan, you have to keep her around… Wait, Annie! You have to keep her around!” The boy was still playing his ridiculous armor, tinkling away at much reduced volume. He sounded like wind chimes on a breezy summer day.

 

He shambled out into a pleasant section of grassland and began to pick up the pace on his strange cobbled together instrument.

 

It was… ‘plunky and bright’ that was the only way to describe the odd exotic rhythm he hammered from his own chest. It swayed and bounced like a small boat on a big ocean.

 

He began a singsong chant in a strange cadence along with his beat. Harmonizing and playing his own counterpoint.

 

Shake shake shake senora, 

Shake your body line!

 

Shake shake shake!

Shake it all the time!

 

The slim girl with the beads and the smith went wild. Like possessed women, they began frolicking so aggressively she worried they might injure themselves. 

 

When they began grabbing the men and pulling them into the wild melee Luna decided to just ‘Jump In The Line’ and shake her body in time.

 

#

 

Fallon’s riders cantered along for the entire morning, edging their animals to the point of exhaustion before dismounting and walking the poor things. 

 

They paused at midday to graze and water the beasts, while Malus and another trooper examined the roadway. 

The short squat trooper lived up to his name, he claimed it was some exotic foreign word for hammer. 

 

He had a face like a hammer, fists like hammers, and if Fallon ever saw him without those iron shod boots, he was sure the brute would have little hammer toes. That thought made him smile. 

 

The thought of what his favorite band of villains would do to those greenies if he let them loose was nice too. 

 

Khan seemed so upright and by the book when the officers and clergy were around… Fallon knew, Khan had been fucking his second since before he became patrol leader even. 

 

Then Khan had the gall to run and tell his uncle about a few whores or might as well be whores his men happened to tumble. Who cares if War’s best took what they needed from the common filth.

 

“My lord, a dog cart passed this way, perhaps at dawn. Jeng says there is an odd patch of soil here, he keeps nattering about beans and squash. Can’t get the farmer out of him yet.” Malus was a chatty soul… a brute and as vicious as you like, but the man was a gossip.

 

“Malus, shut up. If that cart passed at dawn they are just ahead, they must have marched half the night. Get the men moving. On foot, lead your horses, quicktime!”

 

The tired men collected their mounts and removed their hobbles quickly. Within minutes of his order they were jog-marching down the road, horses jingling after.

 

Five godsdamned hours they ran, certain they would catch the greenies just over the next rise. Each time the temptation to mount became too great, Malus or Jeng found some hint that they were close. 

 

Wheel tracks, or fresh dog piss, horseapples so enormous they could only come from that monster’s butthole. Still they found no sign of their quarry.

 

#

 

“Are they still behind us?” Tawny asked, her growing concern evident despite the veil she now wore continually.

 

“Yes, still a couple miles off. They look worn out, but their horses are fresh.” Luna reported. Somehow this Tawny, even under the veil, she exuded calm and authority.

 

Tawny frowned, creasing her golden face in unnatural ways. “If they are not riding that means they are up to no good. Tell Gary and Shai to make the wall extra pointy tonight.”